


Unwanted Bonding

by HopefulHeir



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Humanstuck, M/M, Mentioned Bro Strider - Freeform, hinted strider abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 08:31:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7969696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopefulHeir/pseuds/HopefulHeir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous Asked:<br/>consider dave and karkat both living in the same shitty run down apartment and they always end up riding the elevator together, Karkat because he's not walking up 'one hundred and fuck' flights of stairs and dave because he doesn't trust stairs. one day the elevator breaks with them inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unwanted Bonding

**Author's Note:**

> I got [a wonderful ask](http://demisexualkarkat.tumblr.com/post/149643753210) on my tumblr and got...a little excited about it.
> 
> Hopefully these nerds can actually...connect.

This is it. You’re going to die here.

You scream every curse word you know - which is a lot, in a vast number of languages - and slam your hand against the elevator’s buttons again. Sure, it hasn’t worked to make the goddamn thing move again the past seven times you’d tried it, but God knows Terezi’s stupid girlfriend would have your ass if you didn’t at least make it eight. Besides, at this point, you were really just relieving stress. Lots and lots of stress, both from being trapped in a goddamn piece of shit elevator with the douchiest-looking guy you’ve ever met.

Speaking of which, the guy’s frowning at you, one eyebrow raised. Fuck, you hate when people do that. It’s almost like they’re showing off when they do. Fuck this guy. “What are you looking at?” You growl after a moment.

He shakes his head. “Just you, man. You’re kinda attracting attention to yourself.” He smirks and shrugs. “You’re freaking out over nothing. You hit the button to call for help, I called 911; someone’s gonna be here in no time. And you can go back to your shitty apartment - and trust me,” he cuts in just as you open your mouth to argue, “if it’s in this building, it’s a piece of shit just like mine - and then you can do whatever. Just… Relax, dude.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Yes, I’ll just relax. Rest my happy ass in the corner of a fucking elevator with no visible entrance aside from the goddamn roof which just leads to a huge drop below is.” You glare at him again and huff, hitting the button panel once more (whoops, that makes nine; fuck you, Vriska) in frustration. “This is exactly how I wanted to spend my evening, actually! So while we’re having glorious small talk, I just realized I’m a fucking asshole and forgot all manners!” You laugh sarcastically and hold out your hand rather forcefully. “My name is Karkat. Nice to fucking meet you.”

It takes a moment for it to click in your head that this guy flinched when you extended your hand. Maybe he thought you were so pissed off you were going to bitch slap him? As great as that would feel, you’re not exactly a moron. You don’t go looking for fights. The guy across from you swallows hard and shakes your hand slowly. “Dave Strider. Nice first impression.” He smirks, amused with his own sarcasm, and you just huff and practically throw his hand back at him.

“Well, Strider,” you say, glaring at him, “I’m glad you’re so calm about all of this. Why don’t I just be pissed enough for the both of us, and you shove those stupid-looking sunglasses of yours down your throat so you stop fucking talking?”

Dave shrugs. “Sorry, man, can’t do that. Talking is kinda my thing.” He laughs, and you swear behind that smug smirk there was a hint of nervousness.

“How long have we even been stuck here, anyway?” You ask irritably.

Before you can say anything else, he speaks again - quiet, under his breath, probably talking to himself. “Twenty-two minutes and thirty-eight seconds.”

“What?” You look at him, confused. “The fuck did you say?”

He laughs awkwardly. “Uh. Almost twenty-three minutes. That’s how long we’ve been stuck.” He shrugs. “Sorry, I’m… Pretty good with time.”

You roll your eyes. “Nobody cares,” you grumble. “I literally just told you to shut up. My question? Rhetorical. Assume all future questions to be the same.”

“Sorry,” he says again.

You huff. “Of all the people to be stuck in a fucking five-by-five space with, I got the most insufferable asshole in this building.”

Something shifts in his face. Somehow, even with the dark sunglasses in the way, you can tell his eyes are darting around the elevator, as if you pointing out the size of the elevator suddenly made him aware of just how small it was. He draws a slow breath, and you can’t help but frown. “That’s… Uh, that’s not gonna happen, dude,” he says after a moment, the nervousness very apparent now. “Talking… Keeps my mind off of this, y'know? I dunno why I’m telling you all this, but, uh, I’m kinda claustrophobic, and so I’m kinda secretly freaking out over here behind these sweet-ass shades. And my bro fucking read my text about how I’m stuck in the fucking elevator, and he hasn’t replied, which is cool and all because he’s a busy guy, but I’m really starting to feel like I’m gonna die here, and he won’t even care. Which isn’t helping, like, at all. And-”

Dave keeps rambling. And as he does, your frown keeps growing. His hands are shaking, though he’s doing a pretty decent job of hiding it behind elaborate hand gestures as he talks. You sigh, letting him talk, wondering why he’s spilling his metaphorical guts (his phrase, not yours) to you.

And finally, after a while, you can’t listen anymore. “Shh,” you say sternly, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder.

He flinches away again as you reach out, but you’re pretty sure he didn’t even realize he did it. “Shit, fuck, that was super lame, wasn’t it?” He laughs awkwardly. “I just did the clumsiest swan dive into a pool labeled embarrassment. Fuck, no, that was pathetic. Hang on, I’ve got a better metaphor in here somewhere, um-”

“Shh,” you say again, placing both hands firmly on his shoulders. “It’s okay. I’m scared too.”

He seems to freeze at your touch. “Really?” He laughs again. “I, uh, thought you were just pissed off because the damn elevator wasn’t working or something.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m fucking terrified that this piece of shit is going to fall and I’m going to die before I even do anything with my pathetic existence.” You sigh and slide to the floor against the wall next to Dave. He spilled his feelings to you; something about that gesture has you feeling like you can do the same. You’re pretty sure you’re going to regret it later, but that’s Future Karkat’s problem.

“Oh.” He nods and slowly moves to sit down next to you. “Yeah, okay, I guess that’s fair.” He laughs. “Shit, I don’t know if I can ride another elevator after this. Which sucks, because I don’t exactly get along with stairs, either.”

You roll your eyes and scoff. “What, got a problem with your legs or something?”

He shrugs. “Not now, but generally when I take the stairs, yeah, problems tend to come up.”

You frown, but decide not to ask. “I just don’t feel like walking another goddamn half hour after getting off work to climb up a hundred and fuck stairs to get to my bed,” you say instead. “It’s fucking bullshit.”

He laughs at that - a genuine laugh, not hiding his fear anymore, and suddenly your face is a bit warm when you realize you’re staring at his smile.

He opens his mouth to talk, but the sounds of moving metal cause him to leap to his feet, body stiff and almost ready to fight whoever comes through the door. But he doesn’t; he’d have to be stupid to fight off your rescuers, after all.

You find yourself watching him instead of them, trying to keep him out of the way and also trying to keep him calm. Every little noise and motion from them seems to set him on high alert, and again you can tell his eyes are darting everywhere. But once you’re free, he seems to relax a bit, and you feel a little better when he does.

“Well, that was fun,” he says with a small sigh, “but I gotta get back home. My bro is gonna have my ass for being so late.” He waves and turns to leave with another small laugh.

You take a deep breath and speak quickly. “Four thirty-three.”

He stops and looks at you with one eyebrow raised. You try not to frown at it. “Uh. What?”

You huff. “I live in four thirty-three. Yknow, if you ever wanna drop by.” You’re blushing again and you know it. You curse mentally. “Yknow, to talk. About… Whatever.”

Dave smirks. “Five-oh-two,” he says simply before turning to leave. He waves over his shoulder, and you nod in satisfaction.

It’s not exactly a phone number, but it’ll have to do.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my work, [please consider buying me a Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/hopefulheir)!


End file.
